


Shattered Into Pieces

by tekmessa



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake It Till You Make It, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Spoiler - 2x03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 15:38:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tekmessa/pseuds/tekmessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything is okay. It has to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered Into Pieces

Muttering something about homework, Allison escapes her father and his questions and she tries not to think about Lydia, crouched down in the middle of the skating rink and screaming.

Trauma. It could be some kind of PTSD. After what happened at the Formal, it wouldn't be surprising.

That's what Allison wants to tell her father. She wants to say it and have him nod and agree that she's right and that Lydia is fine, that she's still a normal human girl, that she's no danger and especially that she's not in danger from the hunters anymore.

But Allison can't say it.

Because that is not how the conversation would go down if she did.

Lydia's in danger.

And Allison is her friend. She cannot and will not let anything happen to her. Not again. Never.

She looks at the bow, leaned against the wall.

An innocent hobby once upon the time.

Not anymore.

Never again.

_"Our sons are trained to be soldiers, our daughters to be leaders."_

She hopes it is true because if it is, maybe she can protect her friends. She has to learn and become stronger and then she has to claim her place in her family and the world, so that no one will ever dare to look at Lydia or Scott the wrong way, let alone hurt them, because they will belong to Allison.

She touches the wood. It's smooth beneath her fingers. Smooth and familiar.

She has to be strong.

She has to be strong for Lydia.

She has to be strong to be with Scott.

No harm will ever come to either of them. Not as long as Allison can fight.

*

The house is empty and Lydia is tired.

She's tired of Stiles ignoring that she ignores his attempts to hit on her, she's tired of Jackson being condescending and an asshole towards her, and most of all she's tired of freaking out all the time. But there's nothing she can do or say, nothing that makes sense, nothing that would make Allison believe her if she told her that it wasn't some animal attacking her, but a man who turned into a monster right in front of her eyes.

If Lydia ever said that aloud, everyone would think she's crazy.

Or even crazier than people already think she is, what with running through the woods naked for days.

Lydia closes the door and her eyes. Leans back against the door and breathes. Counts the seconds in her head.

Her mother isn't at home.

No one is, but Lydia.

It's okay.

Lydia sinks to the floor, hands pressed to her face and thinks about screaming.

Like she did in the skating rink.

That face ...

She shudders, her fingers search for her phone and she wants to call ...

... her mother?

... Allison?

... Jackson?

He's still number one on speed dial.

He broke up with her. He insulted her. He blamed her for something and she doesn't even know what he was talking about.

And he's still the number one.

She hates herself for it, wonders why she couldn't have fallen for someone more pedestrian like Allison did. But then, Allison has been dating Scott only for a few months. Lydia has been with Jackson for a far, far longer time. There's a lot of history between them, lots of feelings and so, so many memories of Jackson's hands and his smile and his voice.

Doesn't matter. She needs to get over it, needs to move on, needs to forget.

_Forget._

Red eyes in the darkness.

Fangs.

Pain.

So much pain.

Lydia blinks. Her face is wet and she's crouched on the floor, huddled right next to the door and biting into her fingers.

How long? How much time has she lost this time? She doesn't know.

It's okay, though. She's alone. No one has seen her breakdown. This time.

It's okay.

She swallows.

It's okay.

She stands up, straightens her shoulders and forces a smile on her face.

It's okay.

She's okay.

Everything is okay.

It has to be.

*

Scott wants to scream, to rage, to run after them and stop them - stop _Derek_ -, but no matter what his teachers say about him, Scott's not really stupid. He's bleeding and he's hurting, and Derek never, ever broke into sweat. Admittedly, he never did before either, but now, as the Alpha, it had been ridiculously easy for him to defeat Scott. He's stronger, perhaps because he's the Alpha, perhaps because of Isaac, Erica and Boyd, or perhaps for some other crazy reason because who knows what Derek is doing nowadays.

Scott takes a step forward and, damn, it hurts really badly, but the scratches will heal any moment and he has to go to work. _Screw Derek! Screw Derek and his red eyes! Screw Derek and that smug smirk and -_

Scott stops. Looks around. Wonders where Stiles is who should be saying this stuff aloud.

Stiles should have arrived by now. He cannot have found Boyd at his place and they had agreed that they would meet at the skating rink. It shouldn't have taken him that long.

So, where is Stiles?

_Derek wouldn't hurt him_ , Scott tells himself. _Derek would never harm one of us._

But Stiles isn't here.

And Derek's not as he's been before.

Scott's blood runs cold. He scrambles for his phone.

Thinks that he will ask Allison to put a few arrows into Derek's body if anything has happened to Stiles.

Thinks that he will beg Mr. Argent to put a bullet with wolfsbane into Derek's heart if Derek's done anything to Stiles.

Thinks that he will go straight to Derek to try and kill him with his bare hands if Stiles doesn't answer his phone right-the-fuck-now.

"Scott?"

Stiles' voice sounds strange. Scott takes a breath. Maybe it's just the reception.

"You okay?"

Stiles laughs. Still sounding strange. "I'm ... I'm fine. Great. Had some kind of run-in with Erica." He's quiet for a moment, curses. "Never mind. Did you find Boyd?"

"Yes," Scott says and thinks about Boyd saying that he wants to be just like Scott. He feels sick. "Derek already bit him."

"Awesome. Just ... just awesome."

His side is still hurting. Why doesn't it stop?

"You know what? Let's talk about this tomorrow, Scott. I ... I need to get home and take a shower."

"Yeah. Tomorrow."

He lifts his shirt and looks at the wound. It looks exactly the same as the last time he risked a glance.

The same ...

Isaac, Erica and Boyd have changed. They aren't the same anymore.

Nothing is the same anymore.

Scott needs to go to work. Dr. Deaton gave him a raise just yesterday, so he needs to go to work and earn it.

His legs are trembling, his side is aching and Scott cannot stop thinking about Allison saying, _"It's like battle lines are being drawn,"_ and, _"I don't want you to be normal. I want you to be alive."_

She was right, of course, she was. Lines are being drawn and Scott wants ...

He flips open his phone.

"Hi, Scott."

"Allison, hey. I ... uh ..."

"Is something wrong?"

He puts his hand on the door handle, almost out of the skating room now. He doesn't think he's going to want to go back there for quite some time. "Yes."

"Want to talk about it?"

He shakes his head. "Mind if I tell you tomorrow?"

She's quiet. Then she asks, her voice soft and tender, "How can I help you, Scott?"

His heart clenches. He loves her. He loves her so damn much, and Stiles would roll his eyes and Lydia would laugh at him and Derek would growl and say that he has no idea what he's talking about, but none of it changes anything. It's just a fact. Scott loves Allison.

"Just ... can you just talk to me for a while? Just a few minutes? About anything?"

"Yes, Scott," she says, and he hears the smile in her voice that makes some of the pain go away instantly, "I can definitely do that."

He loves her so, so much.

*

Stiles half climbs, half falls out of the dumpster, and there's nothing graceful about it.

His face is hurting and his chest is tight, and he should do what he told Scott. He should go home and shower and ask his dad about his work. He should just stop thinking about it for one day and deal with it tomorrow because there's really nothing he can do. Maybe nothing he wants to do because today he has reached a new high on his humiliation'o'meter.

His legs are trembling as he walks towards the car and he sighs in relief when he's finally in the driver's seat and didn't fall down once on his way there. He counts it as a win that he's in his car now and can put this day behind him.

Only he's in a car that won't start.

Because Erica tinkled with it and obviously never put everything back where it belongs.

Stiles closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Thinks about screaming.

He doesn't do it, though.

Instead he pulls out his phone again, skims through the list and lets his finger hover over 'Derek Hale'. He wants to push it, wants to yell, wants to demand an explanation or at least the money for the repair. He wants to ask if Derek sent Erica and ordered her to do that or if he doesn't know what his crazy, power-drunk pups are doing, but Stiles is smart and knows the answer to that particular question, and that's why he throws the phone onto the passenger seat and slams his hands against the steering wheel.

Derek ordered her.

And he might or might not have had a reason for it, but Stiles doesn't care. Because maybe they haven't been friends before, not really, Stiles isn't stupid and he doesn't lie to himself. Even if it has sometimes been fun and often exciting being around Derek, it hasn't made them friends. But they have been some kind of allies that knocked heads most of the time, but helped the other out when it was needed. Maybe they could have become friends, maybe ...

But what happened today? That's not how you treat someone who you want to be friends with. Someone who is an ally.

You don't have an ally knocked out and stashed into a dumpster. That's how you treat someone who's weaker than you when you're a bully.

Is that what Derek has become?

Stiles thinks about Derek in his passenger seat, close to dying from a hunter's bullet, thinks about skipping his first and only chance so far at first line to look for Peter Hale and find the Alpha, and he thinks about lying to his father's face to protect Derek and Isaac.

He closes his eyes again, suddenly tired.

Lydia's close to a breakdown.

Jackson's a jackass. Well, nothing new on that front at least.

Allison has to deal with a crazy family.

Scott feels responsible for things that shouldn't be his responsibility.

Derek's now biting people and apparently not giving a single damn thought to the consequences of his actions. That there will be three newly made werewolves roaming through Beacon Hills. That they will walk through the school hallways between all the other normal kids. That they will be dangerous because Scott was and Scott was actively trying not to be while Erica doesn't look like she cares a whole lot about people.

Derek hasn't thought about any of it.

And Stiles is angry, yes, but what's more is that he's hurt and disappointed and the feeling is pretty damn similar to the one he always gets when Lydia ignores him or his attempts to win her over. In fact, it's actually worse than that because he's become used to Lydia's brush-offs and is expecting them, while Derek is still new under his skin and the disappointment hurts somewhere deep in his chest.

He will get over it, though, because that's what he always does. It will hurt for a while and then he'll get used to it. He'll start to expect nothing else, and he'll be able to make some kind of face and keep talking and smiling and scowling. Derek won't ever know that it hurts, just like Lydia never knew and nowadays it doesn't hurt as much anymore when she walks right over him.

Stiles has his dad. And he has Scott and Scott keeps him going because Scott needs him and Scott cares about him just as much as Stiles cares about Scott.

It's enough.

Stiles can hold it together and keep going.

He breathes in deeply and leans over to pick up his phone. He doesn't call anyone, just types a text while he walks home. He shuts the front door behind himself and locks it carefully. Then he swallows, presses his lips into a tight line and sends the text.

Stiles can keep going.

He always has.

This time will be no different.

*

Jackson doesn't know what to think.

He's in his Porsche, no longer stuck in the mud because he lifted it. He lifted the car, and what does that mean? What does it mean that he lifted a car? Where did the strength come from? The Bite? His anger? Adrenalin?

He has read about this, about people being able to do impossible things when they're stuck in extreme situations, so maybe it's just that. Adrenalin. Maybe it's nothing.

Maybe it's everything.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he looks at his hands, which are just the same as always, no change, no difference. They haven't become hairier or claws or anything. They're normal, human hands.

Normal, human hands that lifted the Porsche.

Maybe he isn't quite this normal anymore.

Maybe he's finally stronger.

Maybe he's special now - like McCall, only better because he's been better than McCall before McCall turned into that and cheated. Now Jackson will finally take back his place on top of the food chain again with no one taking it from him, stealing his spotlight.

_Co-captain._

He hates the word.

McCall never earned it. He earned none of it.

Jackson has. He's always worked hard and done everything he could to be the best, the star.

And now McCall and Erica - and possibly Isaac, too, if what he's heard Stilinski and McCall saying is true - have stolen it from him.

Lydia almost ruined it for him. Made him weak. Made him human.

He thinks of her face, the way she had stood in the hallway, small and shaken and upset, and there's that pang of guilt in his chest, of feelings, of uncertainty ...

No! He can't have that. He has to be special. He has to be someone. He can't be a nobody. He can't be forgotten.

He can't!

He puts his hands on the steering wheel and curls his fingers around it.

Exhales.

He won't.

He will be someone. He will be remembered.

He'll show them. McCall. Derek Hale. Lydia. He'll show them all that he's not a nobody.

Nothing else matters.

Nothing else can matter.

*

There's an address and a very short text, _Repair my car and return it to my house._

Nothing else. No explanation, no threats, no questions, nothing.

Derek doesn't know how he feels about that. Because Stiles never shuts up, never lets anything go, never doesn't care.

Only now that might have changed.

Derek knows what Erica has done. She told him and he thinks he might have frowned, but he didn't say anything because he'd already known that Erica's actions had been his fault. He'd been too imprecise when he'd told her to take care that Stiles would not interfere with their confrontation with Scott. _No lasting damage_ , he'd said when he'd sent her to Stiles. _Don't bite, don't scratch._

And that's what she'd done, following up on his orders.

He can't fault her just because he's been used to dealing with Scott and Stiles, who never want to hurt anyone because even in Scott's most lunatic episodes he'd always protected Allison and had had Stiles as the voice of reason in general.

Derek looks at his phone again, but the impersonal message hasn't changed.

Stiles is silent.

It doesn't bother Derek. It doesn't bother him that the most persistent, noisy person he'd ever met is shutting down. It doesn't bother him because there's no reason why it should.

Stiles is with Scott and Scott refuses to be with Derek. They aren't pack, although Derek had wanted them, had offered it to Scott, and if Scott had agreed, Derek would have had them both whether Stiles would have asked for the bite or not. They would have been pack.

But Scott refused.

Now Derek has neither of them, but has to deal with a bunch of insanely driven hunters being after him, and he needs a pack. He needs strength. He needs Isaac and Erica and Boyd, and what he has given them is helping them as well. It isn't as one-sided as Scott thinks.

_It isn't._

Derek is the Alpha and everyone he might have considered pack before refused him, so he had to turn other people. If Scott and Stiles tried to see things from his perspective, they would understand. They wouldn't always treat him with distrust and annoyance. Scott wouldn't go around telling everyone that being around Derek is worse than being beaten up by an abusive father, having epileptic episodes or being lonely all the time. Stiles wouldn't just shut him out.

No, they would be pack. Stiles would laugh and talk and argue with him, never shutting up, and Scott would whine and help and stare into the distance thinking about Allison Argent. And maybe Jackson would have turned and learned to be stronger as part of the pack instead of running alone.

"Are you going out? Do you want company?"

Erica's question makes him look up and he realizes that he's started towards the stairs. He looks at her, at his phone, and then he shakes his head. "No. Stay here. All of you."

"Boring," Erica mutters, but returns to Isaac and Boyd.

Derek leaves. He walks the streets of Beacon Hills and finds the address Stiles sent and Stiles' car. Repairing it is easy because he has the missing part and also because he has worked in a garage for a while during his stay in New York. The car rumbles to life when Derek turns the key in the ignition.

He drives it to the Stilinski house and carefully does not think about all the times he'd been in the passenger seat with Stiles next to him or about Stiles incredulous looks he'd always thrown at Derek or about anything else. And least of all does he think about Stiles' lingering scent that is surrounding him, achingly familiar and weirdly comforting, and the faint whiff of recent anger and hurt he believes he can pick up on.

He climbs out of the car and he's going back to his new place now, not home, though, because that place isn't home, only his eyes are drawn to the window that belongs to Stiles' room and it's dark inside.

Maybe he's already sleeping. Maybe he's staying with Scott. Maybe ...

Derek gives in to the urge and searches for Stiles' voice or breath, but instead his ears pick up on Stiles' heartbeat first and almost immediately, just as achingly familiar and calming as his scent, and that's when Derek knows that he has to leave and not look back because Stiles is not pack and this is not the way to feel about not-pack.

Erica, Isaac and Boyd are his pack.

Scott and Stiles aren't.

And after what happened today, after he'd forced Scott to fight against Erica and Isaac, after what Erica had done to Stiles on his orders - well, after everything Derek doubts that they are going to join his pack any time in the near future. Probably never.

It doesn't matter.

It can't matter.

Hunters are in town.

Derek's the Alpha of a pack. Only his pack matters.

That's how it's supposed to be.

That's how it has to be.


End file.
